by Sarah Steel
Matron applied the bristles more firmly, establishing her absolute sovereignty over the kneeling, helpless nude.
Swish, swipe. Swish, swipe. The creamy buttocks reddened quickly as the small room echoed to the harsh swipes of the hairbrush across the upturned bottom.
After the eleventh stroke, Matron applied the bristles up against the bouncing breasts, levelling the cruel spikes at the ravaged nipples. Alice squeezed her thighs together and moaned.
'You will obey me from now on, girl. You will work hard at your studies and improve your ward performance, understand?'
The fingers at the pillow splayed out in a mute gesture of contrition.
'Good. I am prepared to do this every night - if I have to - until you pass your exam.'
Swish, crack. Swish, crack. After the sixteenth stroke - a blistering swipe which left the crimson cheeks jerking in anguish - Matron surreptitiously lifted up her pleated skirt and swiftly dragged the bristled face of the hairbrush against her slit. Administering five more searing strokes, the punisher brought the bristles to her wet heat each time the pear-wood had spanked the bare bottom. Soon the bristles were wet, and Matron was approaching a violent climax. Hurriedly loosening the leather belt from Alice's wrists, Matron snatched it up and left the room in silence.
Closing the door, she gripped the belt in her fist and dashed towards the privacy of her own quarters, her stocking-tops now sticky with the ooze of her urgent arousal. Stumbling towards her door, she sank down to her knees, her face crushed into the linoleum, collapsing under a savage orgasm.
At four o'clock the following afternoon, just when the three student nurses were anticipating slices of buttered bread, strawberry jam, wedges of fruit cake and strong, brown tea, they found themselves summoned from the line of nurses queuing in the refectory and heading for the training block. There, gowned and gloved, they found Matron waiting for them in a clinical practice room.
'You two wait outside. Poppy, get in here and close the door.'
Poppy bit her lower lip and entered the white tiled room.
'Get undressed. I am going to help you with your practical skills. A few useful tips for your finals.'
Poppy stripped obediently, covering her naked breasts and pubis shyly.
'I am going to teach you the finer points of the bed-bath. Up.'
Poppy mounted the bed. A rubber sheet - but no draw sheet - received her soft buttocks with a cold kiss as she eased herself slowly down and stretched out, avoiding Matron's stern gaze. Poppy shivered as Matron became busy with a cold flannel at her face, neck and shoulders.
'More refreshing this way,' Matron murmured. 'Of course, the water would be warm for a patient.'
Cupped and squeezed within the cold cloth, Poppy's nipples peaked painfully. Matron paused, thumbing the nipples tenderly with her gloved thumbtip.
'Observe closely,' she continued, taking a fresh flannel and soaping it vigorously.
Poppy wriggled and squirmed as the soapy cloth massaged her breasts roughly, grinding her buttocks into the rubber sheet. Matron raised her gloved hand warningly, instantly stilling the naked little nurse into passive obedience.
'Turn over. No, girl. Onto your left side. Draw your knees up to your tummy.'
Surrendering her bottom, Poppy whimpered softly but - fearing Matron's promise of punishment - drew her knees up to crush her breasts.
'Hygiene is vitally important here.' Matron fingered Poppy's cleft. 'Hot water is essential.'
Gripped in Matron's gloved fist, the scalding flannel raked up Poppy's cleft twice, causing the naked nurse to clench her cheeks tightly. Removing the cloth, Matron worked her gloved finger between the cheeks and probed the anal whorl within. Poppy squealed.
Spank. Spank. 'I am showing you the importance of washing the patient thoroughly, girl. Do not obstruct me.' Spank. Spank.
Poppy wriggled on the rubber sheet and parted her cheeks, allowing Matron to bend down and examine them intimately.
'Always use a fresh flannel for each part of the patient,' Matron remarked. 'Especially after washing the bottom.'
Poppy murmured a soft response, nodding gently, causing her pony-tail to swish against the rubber sheet.
'Leave the pubic area 'til last. On your back, girl, legs apart.'
The hot cloth - Matron's gloved hand was impervious to the seething heat - was applied firmly to Poppy's pubic mound. 'Not as hot as this, of course,' Matron grunted, ravishing the parted labia and scrubbing the clitoral hood. 'I'm merely making the lesson memorable.' Forcing a corner of the hot cloth in between the labial folds, Matron suddenly pulled it away. Poppy screamed softly and clamped her thighs together, her buttocks hammering the rubber sheet beneath her.
Matron quelled the writhing nude with a pinioning hand. 'You will, of course, never be so inconsiderate towards your patient, girl. I simply deemed it necessary to remind you how it ought not to be done.'
Tossing the soiled flannel aside, she ordered Poppy to roll over onto her belly. Face down into the rubber sheet, Poppy proffered her bare bottom to Matron, who deftly applied talcum powder to the rounded cheeks, massaging the fine white film firmly into the satin-smooth flesh. 'To prevent bedsores, we apply a protective barrier. For long-term bed care, a cream can be used.'
Poppy snuggled down, crushing her breasts into the rubber sheet, and inched her buttocks up for Matron's firm touch.
'What precautions should be taken with a nailbrush, girl?'
Poppy tensed, unable to answer the question.
'I'm waiting.' Matron's index finger tapped the naked left buttock's wobbling swell impatiently. 'Well, girl?'
Poppy clenched her cheeks, fearing Matron's rubber gloved spank.
'I had better remind you.' Taking a small wooden-backed nailbrush, Matron dipped it into warm water and applied it to Poppy's fingernails. 'Do not ever use a nailbrush directly on the patient's flesh,' Matron warned, suddenly raking the sharp bristles down along Poppy's spine - and then between her plump cheeks, ravishing her deep cleft.
Twisting on the rubber sheet, the pony-tailed nurse squealed.
'And that,' Matron murmured, peeling off her rubber gloves, 'is all you need to know about giving a bed-bath. What have we forgotten, girl?'
'Pulse and temperature?' hazarded Poppy, mumbling the response into the rubber sheet at her lips.
'Excellent, Poppy. I'll make a Sister out of you, yet. Pulse and temperature. Turn over.'
Poppy obliged.
'After the bed bath, take advantage of your patient. Naked and relaxed, it will be easy to take the readings required. Pulse first.'
Matron placed two fingers down at the crease of Poppy's pubic delta where it melted into her upper thigh. 'Do not be afraid to press down firmly.' Matron's thumbtip casually swept the tiny clitoris. 'Goodness me, girl. A pulse of eighty-nine, and galloping. We are in an excitable state. Over onto your tummy. I firmly believe in taking a rectal temperature,' she murmured. 'We don't need an actual thermometer, do we girl? My finger will suffice.'
The little pink rosebud resisted at first, but Matron splayed the plump little cheeks apart and forced the small muscle to widen and accept her. A fraction of an inch at a time, she probed the muscled warmth of Poppy's tightness. The little pony-tailed nude lapped the rubber sheet, her eyes closed tightly shut, as Matron dominantly inserted her finger until its full, firm length lay buried between the buttocks.
'How long to take a temperature?' Matron demanded, her voice cool and clinical.
'A minute,' Poppy whispered into the wet rubber at her lips. 'A minute,' Matron nodded, fingering the inverted watch pinned to her bosom.
Sixty seconds later, she slowly withdrew her finger, Poppy involuntarily squeezed her buttocks, as if to capture and contain the firm length inside her.
'Well done, girl. Bed-bath, pulse and rectal temperature reading. I trust you will remember all that I have taught you.'
'Yes, Matron,' Poppy whispered, rising up on her elbows and peeling her bosom and pubi
s away from the hot rubber sheet. 'I will remember.'
'Henrietta. Will you step inside? Shut the door and lock it, girl. I have no wish to be disturbed,' Matron added, snapping on a fresh pair of rubber gloves. 'I've just given Poppy some clinical tutoring. I note from your ward reports, Henrietta, that you are still unfamiliar with pre-operation preparations. That is remiss of you, girl, with the finals so close. A spell on the surgical ward must be arranged.'
Henrietta, her green eyes wide and wary, merely nodded.
'For now, I had better show you exactly how to conduct a pubic shave. Strip and up on the bed, girl. Hurry up.'
Her chestnut curls tumbled in disarray as, head bowed, Henrietta unbuttoned her striped uniform. Soon she was standing before Matron, scantily sheathed in her bra, suspender belt, shining stockings and panties. As her left knee turned nervously inwards to nuzzle its partner, the whispering nylons kissed.
'Don't be silly, girl. I cannot possibly shave you like that. I need you entirely naked. Now strip at once and get up on this bed, or I'll spank your bottom very severely.' Matron suddenly remembered her own stocking during Henrietta's earlier punishment - and how it had been stained by the green-eyed girl's wet arousal. 'And you wouldn't want that to happen - or would you?' she added, her tone silky and yet stern.
Blushing as if a burning secret had just been shamefully exposed, Henrietta hurriedly unclasped her brassiere. The cups slid away from her heavy bosom and the ripe breasts bounced gently in their freedom. Bending, her exposed breasts now bulging invitingly, she released the stockings from the suspenders and palmed them down. Unfastening her suspender belt, she folded it once and placed it across the back of a chair. Only her panties remained.
'Come along, girl. You'll have to learn to be quicker. Just wait until the sirens start. Take those panties off or I'll come across and pull them down myself. And if I have to,' Matron warned softly, 'you'll regret it.'
Henrietta struggled to step out of her panties, hopping from one foot to the other as her ankles became briefly ensnared in the wisp of silk. Matron sighed impatiently, grappled the staggering nude firmly and spanked her bare bottom.
'Now get up on that bed at once, girl,' Matron thundered. Gazing down into the wide green eyes, then at the coppery coils of the matted pubic nest, Matron spoke softly. 'There is no time left to study from textbooks. The only way you will learn - and remember - is through experience. Watch me carefully.'
Lathering a small brush, Matron applied it to Henrietta's displayed pubic mound, working the bristles in firmly as she soaped the pubic fuzz. The naked girl squirmed and blushed deeply. The bristles rasped her sensitive labial lips; she squealed and taloned the rubber sheet. The brush swept up against her clitoris: Henrietta moaned gently and pressed her knees together.
'You must remain absolutely still, my girl,' Matron warned. 'It may tickle a little. There's no avoiding that.'
Working the foaming bristles cunningly, Matron quickly had the entire pubic area fully soaped. 'Now. Observe. I take the razor thus—'
Henrietta whimpered and closed her eyes.
'I want you to watch me carefully, girl. You'll come to no grief, I promise. I take the razor in these fingers, see?'
Her tummy fluttered as the naked girl nodded.
'Do not grip it tightly. Lightness of touch is what we aim for. Understand?'
The tiny razor skimmed up across the plum of the pubis, neatly peeling away a curl of foamed hairs and leaving a narrow swathe of pink, shaven skin in its wake.
'And again.' Matron guided the razor delicately up across the soaped pubic mound once more. 'And again.'
Holding her breath, and peering down over the swell of her trembling breasts, Henrietta watched spellbound as she was closely shaven. Stroke by stroke, her coppery coils disappeared beneath the glinting blade.
'Be very careful here,' Matron warned, her soft whisper breaking the intense silence. Pinching the labial lips up together - causing the nude to mew like a kitten at its cream - she plied the razor with quick, precise strokes.
'Any stray hairs are better plucked,' Matron remarked, placing the razor down on a towel.
Henrietta shivered.
'All done,' Matron pronounced. 'Almost there.' Taking a swab of cotton wool in the forceps and dipping it in to a small pot of surgical spirit, she wiped the freshly shaven pubic area with firm, upwards sweeps. The spirit stung the pink flesh. Henrietta moaned and then blushed furiously as a silvery bubble peeped out from between her labial folds. Matron tapped the bubble with the swab. It popped silently.
'Now if you look carefully, you'll see that I've missed four stray hairs. These must be plucked out with tweezers. One should, strictly speaking, swab between the buttocks and pluck out any anal hairs - but we have no time for that now. Later, perhaps.'
The last two words hung in the air between them like a delicious threat. Henrietta squeezed her cheeks so hard the rubber sheet became creased up in her cleft.
'Watch carefully,' Matron instructed.
Their heads almost touched as they both gazed down at the shaved pubic mound. Matron guided the tweezers down.
'Ouch.'
'Be quiet or I'll spank you.'
Henrietta hissed softly as the second, then the third, pubic hairs were neatly plucked from her flesh.
'Last one,' Matron murmured, tapping the copper coil with the tip of her tweezers. 'Look. It's just there. Awkward little devil. This might smart.'
'No - please—'
Ignoring Henrietta's piteous whine, Matron teased out the wet coil from the labial crease and plucked it out sharply. Henrietta screamed, her breasts wobbling and her hips jerking in her fleeting spasm of agony.
'Now, my girl,' Matron said, her tone almost affectionate. 'I will wash, dry and powder you. And I will examine you later. In bed, perhaps. Together we will go over the finer points of the pre-surgical pubic shave. I'm sure you've learned your lesson. Hm?'
Henrietta's green eyes flickered up - the tiniest glint of resentment now replaced by her shining devotion.
'Alice,' Matron said, her tone crisp and severe. 'Will you come in here? I am going to give you an enema.'
Alice, her cool reserve crumbling, paled. 'But I don't need—'
'I'll be the better judge of that girl. Get in.'
The door was firmly closed behind the anxious student nurse, who flinched as she heard it being locked. Glancing quickly over her shoulder, she caught Matron pocketing the key.
'Purely in the interests - your interests - of clinical practice. It is my intention to prepare you thoroughly for your finals next month. I will not contemplate the possibility of your failing, and I have a suspicion that the correct procedure for administering an enema will be a feature of your practicals. There is no need to undress, girl. I can have access to your bottom with the minimum of fuss. Just get onto the bed,' Matron ordered. 'I have taken the precaution of spreading a rubber sheet down for any spillage.'
Alice stretched out on her side, then slowly drew her knees up into the prone position.
'The enema,' Matron pronounced. 'We both know what its purpose is, but what equipment do I need?'
Alice, who had forgotten to remove her white pumps, tugged at their laces and kicked them off.
'Well, girl?'
'Warm water, towels, a lubricant, a funnel—' Alice paused.
'And?'
'Soft rubber tubing,' the girl on the bed whispered, her dry throat making her voice husky.
'Very good. Knees up a fraction more. No,' Matron added briskly. 'Leave your skirt and panties alone. I will see to that shortly. I may have to use three lengths of rubber tubing, possibly four.'
'Four?' Alice queried.
'One to administer the enema,' Matron explained, 'one to tie your wrists together, and another to bind your ankles together should you choose to struggle and resist.'
'And the fourth?' Alice murmured.
'To whip your bottom with, should you misbehave.'
Alice shi
vered and twisted her face up to plead with her uniformed tormentress. At last, Matron saw what she had hoped for - fear, respect and the beginnings of submission in the proud girl's eyes.
'How many rubber tubes do you think I shall need, girl?'
'One,' Alice gasped. 'Just the one, Matron.'
'I am so very glad to hear it, girl. Hands together and up at your face. Now part your thighs a fraction.'
Anxious to obey, Alice huddled down into the rubber sheet and jerked her buttocks back, surrendering them completely to Matron's gloved hands. After dragging Alice's skirt up over her hips and then thumbing her panties down into a tight band just below the swell of the bunched buttocks, Matron lubricated the tip of the soft, brownish-red rubber tube and guided it into the tiny anal whorl. Alice grunted, tightening her cheeks in a reflex.
'Relax your bottom, girl, and accept the tube.'
Whimpering softly, Alice obeyed. The glistening tip of the rubber tubing slid up between her buttocks.
'Good. A tip for you, my girl. Do not force the tubing at any stage. When you meet resistance, twist it gently. Rotating the tube irritates the anal muscles and they loosen.'
After supervising the slow insertion of five inches of tubing, Matron deftly attached a funnel to the other end and poured two and a half pints of warm water into it.
Alice groaned as the liquid surge burgeoned deep inside her bowels, filling her belly with its warmth. Matron lowered the funnel and, inspecting her inverted watch, observed the passage of a whole minute.
'No, girl. You must not clench your cheeks. The tubing will slip out. If it does, you will be whipped.'
Alice squeezed the rubber sheet between tightening fists as the warm surge bloated her colon.
'Another pint, I think—'
'No—' Alice wailed, shrinking away from Matron.
'I'll be the judge of that. Stay still, girl, or there will be spillage.' Another pint of warm water rushed down the narrow rubber tubing, causing Alice's anal canal to extend. She jerked and twisted suddenly, dislodging the tubing from her buttocks. The spillage flooded the rubber sheet, drenching her stockings, skirt and panties.
